


Recovery

by Iniren



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 19:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19979506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iniren/pseuds/Iniren
Summary: Missing scene to "Sub Rosa."





	Recovery

The doctor sighed when she returned to her quarters after being released from sickbay. Her belongings still packed and stacked like a mountain in the living room. She just sighed again and shook her head, unwilling and unable to face it, a monument to a bizarre situation. She plodded to her bed and collapsed from exhaustion.

Ronin was dashing, romantic and a devastatingly skilled lover. Everything she could have wanted, if he wasn't also an alien presence that had been preying on her and her family for generations. The ecstasy of their time together was intoxicating and powerful, able to make her leave her life, home and everything she'd worked for. Now in hindsight, she felt humiliated, deceived, and so much more alone.

The door chime startled her awake, she'd fallen asleep after silently emptying herself of tears. Shaking off her stupor and smoothing her face and hair, she hoarsely called out, "Come in." Hearing the door slide open, she looked over to see her friend and captain surveying the mountain of cases and bags.

"I know it's late, but I wanted to see if you needed anything before I retired for the night," he said kindly. She rose to meet him, self-conscious, realizing she must look a mess. He'd come to expect her vibrance and independence, seeing her silent and timid wounded him. Without saying another word, he drew near and enfolded her in his arms as she wept silently. They stood like this until the sobs slowly stilled. "Come, I'll help you straighten up your belongings."

Slowly he opened the first case and put the items back to their rightful places, while she stared blankly from the sofa. She began to participate as he asked where unfamiliar items belonged, though truthfully he knew where most things went. She was thankful that he asked nothing about recent events and it honestly felt a bit better focusing on the minor task of putting her quarters in order.

As the pile of cases were emptied he heard her whisper, "What the hell was I thinking?" as she sat amongst the empty cases. He knelt before her covering her hands with his in reassurance. She continued, "I'm a grown woman and I let him take over my mind and body..."

Shaking his head he interrupted her, "From what Dr. Selar explained, whatever he was doing flooded your brain with dangerously high levels of endorphins. It stripped your brain's ability to reason and had begun re-configuring the neurons to support his energy matrix. It was miraculous you were able to fight him at all," he said gently.

Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his and smiled weakly. He was so gentle and attentive, it made her feel happy and terrible at the same time. She felt foolish and the tenderness felt underserved and accepting it felt indulgent. Frustration and confusion began to roil inside her.

"Jean-Luc, stop it."

Surprised he asked, "Stop what?"

"Being so damned polite and nice."

Confused he said, "I don't think you deserve me to be rude and unkind. I don't think I could even, if you'd done something to warrant it."

Her frustration building she continued, "That's just it! Maybe it's the neurological effects or just your damned reserve, but I can't tell what you're feeling and I need that, especially when I don't know what I'm feeling."

"You want to know what I'm feeling?" He stood circling an empty case, eyeing her cautiously and debated just how much he should say. Now she could see in his eyes a flash of passion and his emotions gathering like storm clouds. Then the words like thundering in the distance came in soft baritone, "I wanted to drag you back to the ship kicking and screaming, if you wouldn't come. I wanted to destroy him! In the most absurd and primal way for convincing you to leave and now for hurting you." He hesitated, but pressed on, "And when I saw you in the cottage...I never felt that kind of jealousy, that kind of fear."

Stunned and unaccustomed to such a display of emotion, she meekly offered, "I imagine with the electrical storms and my strange behavior, it would have been frightening."

Slowly he knelt in front of her, his face softening, he looked trying to read her, "No, you misunderstand. It wasn't for your safety. Selfishly I was afraid that you'd be gone for good." The admission hung there between them, both not quite sure what to say. "I couldn't accept that."

He slumped back on his heels frustrated from having to express his innermost emotions. She sat silent trying to absorb the words and emotions she'd just seen. Taking his hand, tears beginning to well again. She softly said, "I'm so sorry, Jean-Luc. I never meant..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for everything to come out like that. I know it wasn't your fault and I hope you know that too. I know you don't feel the same way, but I can't help the way I feel and the thought you wouldn't be there..." She nodded slowly.

"Jean-Luc? This probably isn't the best time to say it, but when I'm feeling better please don't let me forget that I love you." He smiled at her words. For any other pair the request would have been strange, but for them it made perfect sense. Right now their independence defeated, they clung to the faith and loyalty they had for one another. The admissions normally would have frightened them into their respective solitary lives and neither wanted to go back to that. 

Shaking off the stillness he briskly said, "I'm just glad you're home. Is there anything else I can help with?" he said rising to leave.

Quickly she rose and took his hands again, holding him in place. Slowly, she slid a hand to his face and gently kissed him so timidly, he wondered if it was only offered in gratitude. As they parted, she looked in his compassionate eyes, she melted against him capturing his lips this time with unguarded emotion. Softly she asked, "Please stay with me?" her eyes full of her vulnerability.

He nodded silently, inwardly torn between his desire to love her and his need to protect her. Reason and compassion won out and he said, "Beverly, you've been through a trauma a violation. It's not the time to start anything, you need to heal...but please know it's not because I don't want you."

Somehow hearing the words lifted some of her burden from her. The knowledge that he wanted her chipped a bit of the loneliness away from her heart. He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek as she nestled her head against us shoulder. They were consumed with the comfort of one another's care and presence knowing that no matter the circumstances somehow they would always be bound to one another.

=====  
The next morning Beverly woke to the sound of her friend laying out breakfast. It was a familiar scene, him setting their places at the table, laying out a selection of pastry and fruits always with a knife. Though they could order the fruit sliced, they preferred cutting it themselves. She knew the coffee wouldn't be placed until they sat down, so it would stay warm longer. The familiarity comforted her.

He heard her stirring and pondered if he should check on her or merely wait until she appeared. Ultimately he decided to wait he took his usual place at the table hands in his lap until she came out, not wishing to intrude on her struggles. She washed up and chose a simple dark blue dress, as she'd been put on medical leave. She could feel the rebound of the normalizing levels of endorphins was making her feel depressed and uneasy. It was hard to do anything, but she drew on her Howard resolve and took each action as a small victory.

"Good morning," she said softly, "you're still here."

"Yes, of course. This is our usual day for breakfast. Besides I thought the routine might help. Come sit."

Tentatively she sat and began their meal. They talked as always of upcoming events while she was uncharacteristically subdued. He reminded her of her appointments in sickbay and with Deanna. He said nothing about the feelings they'd revealed last night and it made her nervous. She'd just about resigned herself to the fact that the admissions were merely a product of a vulnerable moment, when he finally spoke.

"Beverly, I meant it when I said I couldn't help how felt. I do love you.

She smiled warmly with relief, "Thank you for telling me again," she paused and considered his face. He had no expectation of her returning his feelings and was content to take whatever presence she was willing to grant. In that moment she realized his love would never demand anything of her other than what she wished to give. He willingly set aside his wants for her happiness even if it meant his own hurt.

"Jean-Luc, I think I really do love you." He smiled, satisfied in the knowledge. He slid from his place across the table and knelt beside her chair. Holding her hands he said, "Then perhaps in the future..." She nodded as she caressed his hopeful face, "....Yes in the near future."

**Author's Note:**

> Just felt like they ended it weird with everybody kinda being OK with everything that happened, when it was kind of a rape/violation story.
> 
> Still pretty shippy, but sweet.


End file.
